And Then the World
by Loved-Invention
Summary: There wasn't a correct word to describe the feeling. Nervous wouldn't cut it, nor would giddy. I mean, after all, how would you feel if you had to give the man you love the biggest news of his life? Channy.


**Disclaimer: **All recognizable _Sonny With a Chance_ characters are property of Disney. Also, any other recognizable character/thing does NOT belong to me.

**A/N:** This idea struck me one night, and kind of spilled out into a _very_ long word document. However, when I was writing "Cure for the Common Man" I had a reviewer (you know you are, m'dear) who nudged me forth with this idea. And here it is! I must warn you, it is a little AU, based off of "Cure" (by the means of how Sonny and Chad got together), but it can be read as its own story.

But…whatever. Just do one thing: Enjoy it!

There's lots of Channy goodness in it.

* * *

**And Then the World**

_I do swear that I'll always be there.  
I'd give anything and everything and I will always care.  
Through weakness and strength, happiness and sorrow,  
for better for worse, I will love you with  
every beat of my heart._

_-_Shania Twain

* * *

There wasn't a correct word to describe_ it_.

You see,_ it_ can't be described with 'anxious' 'dizzy' 'scared' 'giddy' 'ecstatic' or just plain…woo-hoo! It also can't be described with 'anxizzariddtatichoo!'. Or, I suppose that it can…you know, if you're insane or whatever.

So I just chose to let it be. I know that I used to be horribly uptight and all (thinking that I had every right since Adam to boss men around), but, when Chad Dylan Cooper came back in my life again, I was good at letting it be.

Or, technically, I'm really, really good at anxizzariddtatichoo!ing.

Chad Dylan Cooper. The man who changed my life forever. Back on the days when we both had dumb television shows, we were sworn enemies. Kind of.

Then, years later, he re-entered my life again at a wedding. You see, he had heard through the grapevine (let's be frank…men gossip more than women do), that I taught men how to get their perfect girl.

Chad's "perfect girl" was Dantity Lane, a famous heiress with the looks of a Bond Girl. Or, at least I thought that she was his perfect girl.

In actuality, Chad was after me. I was his perfect girl. He wanted me! Squee!

See that? I never squee. Nor do I use exclamation points in abundance.

After months of holding back, Chad finally snipped all of my strings away, he finally broke me, per se, yet he did it in the most beautiful way. And truth be told, I fell completely, hopelessly, utterly lost in love with him.

Two years after that whole shebang, I found myself sitting at another wedding. And no, it wasn't mine. Ashley Greene and Kellan Lutz really do make an adorable couple.

I sighed as I heard the guests tapping frantically on their champagne glasses, cheering as they elicited a kiss from the newlyweds. I felt a twinge of jealousy, but, more than that, a huge gob of happiness course through me.

Why are weddings always so painstakingly beautiful?

"Sweetie," A hand resting itself on my right shoulder pulled me away from my thoughts, and then I watched as a glass with some slushy-white stuff was placed in front of me. I eyed it suspiciously before I glanced up at the man leaning over me, a grin on his face.

His grin made me melt, and, even though I wanted to scowl at him, I couldn't.

"Hey Cha-Cha-Chad, how's it going?" With a withering look at my joke-of-a-nickname for him, he slid down in his seat beside me, and took a sip out of his own beer bottle. Blegh.

"I think that I need you to teach me, Sonny." Chad sat the bottle down on the table with a 'thunk' and my heartbeat sped up. The smirk on his face caused me cheeks to flood with heat.

Really, how could one stupid, egotistical, blue-eyed, beautiful SOB make me lose myself?

Oh, right, I'm hopelessly in love with him.

"You see, there's this girl-"

"Chad," I giggled (sadly, yes, giggled), and placed my hand over his wrist, "you really don't have to do this again."

You see, when Chad re-entered my life at that wedding, he went through this whole thing where he came up to me, made me say his name, and described his perfect girl. At first, it broke my heart. After that, when we were finally a couple, he did it again. And he did it at every wedding we've been to since.

So, for the next five minutes, I sat there in my seat, flirting with Chad, letting him drone on about his perfect girl.

That would be me.

Hehe.

When we were finally done, Chad reached for his beer again, and I eyed my drink, suddenly, desperately thirsty. I picked up the glass, and smelled it.

"Pina colada, honey." Chad said in between sips, and I swallowed.

Besides strawberry daiquiris, pina coladas are my favorite drink. But here, for a certain reason, I was kind of hesitant to take a sip of it. Because, most likely, the pina colada had alcohol. And, you see, I can't.

Ooo000ooO

Sonny had been slurping on her colada for about ten minutes. That's fine, that's normal. When Sonny usually starts drinking something, she usually doesn't set the glass down until she's at least halfway finished with it.

But, I love Sonny with all my heart, so I watch her (because, truthfully, it's hard to take my eyes off of her…she's so stunningly beautiful), and watching her meant watching her drink.

The white substance in her glass had not gone down. Not one bit. And that, truth be told, was making me nervous.

Was Sonny sick? Was she nauseous? Was she suddenly allergic to something in a pina colada? She was –oh- what is it called? Backwashing, or something. But I definitely knew that she wasn't drinking.

Wiping the sweat that suddenly appeared from my forehead, I placed both of my hands on her perfect shoulders and squeezed.

She, of course, looked at me like I was insane.

"Want to dance, sweetheart?" I was calling her every nice name in the book, just in case. Yet again, she looked at me like I was nuts. That's when I heard what was playing.

Actually…that was when I heard who was singing. Looking over my shoulder, I saw about half of the Twilight-vampire bunch singing karaoke to "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall." Except, this wasn't just any wedding; it was for those dumb chick-flick supernatural acting people, so they changed "beer" to "blood".

They had their brand new rendition of "99 Bottles of Blood on the Wall." Whoever in the hell came up with the song was now rolling over in his grave.

What a classy wedding.

I must've had a disgusted expression on my face, because Sonny giggled. "Perhaps we should wait for something a little more," Sonny rested her hand on my thigh, causing me to gulp, "romantic, _sweetheart._"

Wow.

And, ouch.

My girl is definitely perfect for me. She's very…Oh, what's the word? Spry.

And then, Sonny leaned over to where I could almost feel her breath on my neck and announced that she was heading to the ladies room.

And I was not invited.

Spry and cruel.

Ooo000ooO

Twelve months and thirteen days ago, something magical happened. I walked down the aisle to the man God made for me, and said "I do."

Did I tell you that Chad and I were married? Well, we are. And it's been the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Of course we went through the stage of newly wedded (freshly acquainted to seeing that a bed is for more than just…_ahem_) bliss, we had our fights and our ups and downs – but at the end of the day, Chad and I are always happy.

Perfect, even.

We talked about everything from the littlest, nitpicky things, to politics, to our future. And, of course, children have always been very much in our future.

Just, our _very_ distant future.

Chad's in the middle of filming a movie right now, and he has at least four more lined up. I decided to take some time off from the whole acting and hosting role, to work on writing songs, my newest passion. But Chad and I have our habits. We're married. Without the other, we're not whole…and when we're together, everything is right. And as much as we're in love with one another, as set as we are, we both wanted to wait at least three more years before trying to conceive.

You want to know my dilemma? As of two months ago, I was late. I was frantic, at first. But my friends – even my mom- reassured me that it happens sometimes. Therefore, I didn't say anything about it.

I just waited, and waited, and _waited_.

And then, after waiting so long, the nausea started kicking in. Soon, I couldn't stand the smell of some of my perfumes. Eggs tasted disgusting, as did any type of lunch meat. I just wanted to eat steak, cheese, and ice cream (which, I know is_ really_ healthy).

I was hoping for something that was kind of a false hope. Because, I knew. I could feel it. I could feel the flutters. I knew that I shouldn't eat junk food, so, instead of going for the ice cream 24/7, I sometimes grabbed the celery instead.

About a week ago I went to the doctor.

When she confirmed what I already knew, I felt that emotion…I felt anxizzariddtatichoo!, if you will. I just didn't know how to tell Chad.

Still don't.

And it sucks.

He's so psyched about all of his acting roles, about being able to travel everywhere…and I just don't want to crash all of his feelings.

But we're having a baby (which sounds so weird). And I know that I have to tell him.

The other thing that I was opting for was just to refrain from having sex until the baby's born (which will be difficult, seeing as how we do it…uh…every-other-daily-sometimes-more-ish), stay at my mom's about a year, and then let the baby tell him.

That only works in movies though, doesn't it?

I had my head on straight for the longest time. I knew _everything. _Now, I'm about to be a mom, and Flutterer here has made me lose my mind. Oh God, the baby probably has Chad's blond hair.

I kind of hope that it has my freckles, and Chad's nose and eyes, and my hair. I hope that it has a melodious little laugh, chubby cheeks, and a dimpled smile.

I _already _know that it will grow up to do great things one day.

I want to talk to Chad about these things.

It's strange…how protective of it I feel. When I told the doctor of all of my worries concerning my husband's reaction (right after I found out), she gave me the "other option." Honestly, I wanted to whack her with the back of my hand.

Sure, I had my weird fantasies about what I could potentially do, but how could anybody, honestly, ever do _that_? How could they even consider that?

She also asked me if I was sure that Chad was the father.

Hollywood has turned into something terrible these days. So many people do so many bad things. And it breaks my heart.

Attempting my best at not getting angry (and feeding her ten million Bible verses on the sanctity of marriage), I joked about how 'Chad' and 'dad' rhyme.

She was not amused.

Fact: When I do tell Chad, he's going to help me find a better, more family-centered doctor.

Fact: I really need to tell Chad.

Letting out a sigh, I walked out of the bathroom stall (who knew they were fantastic places to think?), and headed towards the sink to look at myself in the mirror. I placed my hands on my belly, and turned from side to side.

How could Chad have missed it? I mean…yeah. The bump is extremely tiny, but seeing as how my husband is kind of…thorough, I just don't see how.

Then again, he might think that I've just gained weight, with these Ben & Jerry's binges and all.

With another sigh came a little flutter, and I knew what I had to do. Even the baby was pushing me now.

So, I stood up straight, drew in a deep breath, and walked out of the bathroom to find my husband. Two vampires might've been joining in holy matrimony today, but a certain Cooper was going to find out that he's going to be a dad.

Ooo000ooO

Let me tell you something about the color purple.

My wife makes it look stunning. Then again, Sonny Munroe Cooper can make anything look stunning, because she's drop dead gorgeous.

I noted this as she was walking towards me, a jump in her step, and a slight smile on her face. My goodness, she's beautiful.

When I was ten and had my first girlfriend, I never assumed that she'd be able to knock me off of my feet. And years and years went by after that, and never had I had a slip of luck – until Sonny Munroe (now Cooper) came into my life.

She knocks me off of my feet every day.

And waking up to her in the morning? Completely magical.

And going to bed at night? Definitely…magical, to say the least.

If you know what I mean. You know what I mean?

I believe that beer affects a man's brain in the strangest ways. Such as, it makes him more inappropriate and prone to feeding off more innuendos.

Like when Sonny finally reached me and told me she wanted to leave and go back to our hotel room, a spurt of pure and utter glee shot through me (not Puck/Rachel/ Finn style). I stood up faster than a flash of lightening, grabbed onto my wife's wrist, bypassed the twirling guests, led her through the hall, to the lobby, into the elevator, and pressed my lips against hers (there are many benefits of marriage; being able to kiss Sonny any time I want is one of them).

Sonny was more than happy to oblige at first. You see, when my wife is happy, she likes to run her hands through my hair and pull on my locks – which she was doing at that certain moment. But then, Sonny heaved a sigh, moved her hands away from my hair and to my chest, and pulled away.

My lips were lonely.

"Chad," Sonny raised her eyebrows, "Sweetie, how many beers have you had exactly?"

Busted.

I raised one shoulder, then the other. "Six. Maybe seven." I shrugged innocently, trying not to cower under my wife's disappointed gaze.

Actually, disappointed was an understatement. Sonny looked really upset and concerned. She even went so far as to bite her lip and cross her arms.

Before I could question her actions, the elevator came to a screeching halt, but, before I could start to panic, the doors slid open. Thank God, we had made it to the right floor.

I reached out expectantly, waiting for Sonny to grab my hand, but she walked on ahead, ignoring me. I pouted, fumbling to manage somewhat-graceful steps behind her. I just wanted to hold her hand, I mean, honestly, what was the harm in that?

And seriously, what exactly were we coming up here to do (no puns intended)?

I just wanted to make Sonny happy. I lived, breathed, woke up every morning for her. And something was definitely wrong. I shrugged, and eyed the back of my wife as she walked ahead of me. I just wanted to hold her and make it all better.

Before I could blink, we were in our hotel room. I was sitting on the edge of our bed, and Sonny was sitting in a chair across from me, pressing the tips of her fingers to her forehead. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and refrained myself from reaching out to her and pulling her in my arms.

Sure, I did drink. But I was at a stupid vampire wedding. That didn't mean that I couldn't handle whatever Sonny was going to tell me.

Or maybe, it couldn't.

Truth be told, I'd never been so completely nervous in my life.

Sonny's my wife. She's my _everything_. In a nutshell, she's my life. And if anything ever happens to her, I have absolutely no idea what I'd do.

"Baby?" Getting a hold of myself, I reached out, removing Sonny's hands from her forehead and taking them in my own. "Please tell me what's going on. It's killing me here."

She drew in a deep breath, finally bringing her slightly watery brown eyes to mine, breaking my heart a little bit. I let go of one of her hands so I could run my thumb across her cheek.

Never before had I seen her this way, and I needed to make it better, quickly.

"Honey, please tell me what's wrong." I squeezed her hands, silently praying for God to give Sonny the strength.

"N-nothing's wrong, Chad." Sonny smiled a smile that I had never seen before. It made me curious, and worried at the same time. "It's definitely not wrong. It's absolutely right, Chad…for me, at least. I'm just kind of worried about what you'll think."

Oh, okay.

Sonny had finally taken her song writing talents up to the next level and decided to become a singer and go on tour. This tour would probably be around the time while I'm filming one of my movies. That's fine. That's great for Sonny. For me? I won't get to see her when I wake up every morning. I won't get to kiss her goodnight. I won't get to hold her hand, or give her surprise bubble baths, or buy her a present everyday…

But seriously, Chad, step it up there, bro. This is good for your wife. She wants this. She wants to sing.

Let her have her time while you're having yours.

Breathe Chad, just freaking do yourself a favor and breathe.

(Now I was the one with the fingers pressed to my forehead.)

"Chad-"

"It's fantastic, Sonny!" Attempting to show my wife how (un)happy I was for her, I sprang up to my feet, pulling her with me. "You'll go on tour! It's great!"

(Exclamation points help a depressed person, I think.)

"Chad!" Sonny laughed, (also using an exclamation…sound), "I'm not going on tour. We're having a baby!"

Oh. Good. She's not going on tour.

Wait.

Wait a second.

What the-

"Shitthe-what? Baby-oh-hell?" My heart was beating at a hundred miles per minute inside my chest, and my whole world felt as if it had jolted to a stop.

I looked at my wife, unable to form a single coherent thought or word. Did she really just say what I think she just said?

Sonny found my hands again, and took them in hers, chuckling slightly. "We're having a baby, Chad?" Tears were brimming her eyes, and she was smiling her still-strange smile.

Oh. My. God.

_Dear God,_

What do I do here? My wife just told me that we're having a "baby". A baby. A little human that breathes and will be dependent on Sonny and me. A baby that's going to grow up. And. _Oh._ I'm going to be a father. God, I'm going to be a dad. A d-a-d!

As I stood there with Sonny, I smiled, beginning to have visions of a little baby girl with brown hair, big brown eyes, a cute little nose, and a smile just like Sonny's. This baby had a really cute giggle and liked to reach up and grab my fingers and hold them.

I've never considered using the term 'swoon' before, because I've always considered it to be a woman's term, but here, I was definitely swooning.

My baby.

My heart literally melted at the thought.

_Dear God,_

Thank you for making me calm and happy about this.

"Chad," Sonny's sweet voice pulled me away from my thoughts, and I finally looked at her again. She touched my face gently, and looked at me questioningly. "Are you okay with this?"

"Oh, Sonny," I gave a low laugh, quickly pulling my wife towards me. I buried my head in her hair, and breathed her in. She smelled like lavender, vanilla, and coconut. She was perfect. And we're having a baby together. "I'm more than okay with this. It's…" I pulled away from her long enough to look in her dancing eyes, and pulled her back towards me, "It's amazing. I'm ready. We're going to have a baby."

Sonny smiled up at me with a huge grin, and kissed me.

That night, Sonny and I made love. It was soft, sweet, slow, and perfect. And, of course I was scared. I was scared about everything. But I was _so _ready.

If I have to, I'll drop all the movies in a heartbeat. If Sonny needs me, I want to be there for her. I know that, when I took those vows, I was accepting Sonny as my one. My world. The other half of me.

Without her, I'm not whole. With her, I'm imperfectly perfect. And now, here we are…having another part of us.

So many thoughts were racing through my head about this child. I'd need to build it a nursery. I'd need to put in an alarm. I'd have to give it so many talks…teach it so many things. Most importantly, Sonny and I'd spoil it rotten.

It was ours.

I looked over at Sonny, nestled asleep in my arms. The love of my life. The woman who's carrying my baby.

My world.

* * *

**A/N: **(((Sighs))) I really did enjoy writing this portion, and I really hoped that you liked reading it! I've been tossing ideas around in my mind, and I think that I might continue it. Who'd like to meet Channy's baby?


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